DURING his absence from England, Fletcher wrote several letters to the masters and students of the Countess of Huntingdon’s College at Trevecca;[205] but none of these have been published, and, probably, none of them now exist. Immediately after his return, and before he had an opportunity of visiting the College, he indited the following remarkable epistle:—
“To the masters and students of Lady Huntingdon’s College.
“Grace, mercy, and peace attend you, my dear brethren, from God our Father, and from our Lord and Brother Jesus Christ!
“Brother, do I say? Should I not rather have written All? Is not He all and in all? All to believers, for He is their God, as the λογος (the Word), and their Friend, Brother, Father, Spouse, etc., etc., etc., as He is λογος γενομενος σαρξ (the Word made flesh). From Him, through Him, and in Him, I salute you in the Spirit. I believe He is here with me, and in me. I believe He is yonder with you, and in you; for ‘in Him we live, move, and have,’ not only our animal, but rational and spiritual, ‘being.’ May the powerful grain of faith remove the mountain of remaining unbelief, that you and I may see things as God sees them! When this is the case, we shall discover that the Creator is All indeed, and that creatures, which we are wont to put in His place, are mere nothings, passing clouds that our Sun of Righteousness has thought fit to clothe Himself with, and paint some of His glories upon. In an instant, He could scatter them into their original nothing, or resorb them for ever, and stand without competitor, יחוה, the Being.
“But suppose that all creatures should stand for ever, little signatures of God, what are they even in their most glorious estate, but as tapers kindled by His light, as well as formed by His power? Now conceive a Sun, a spiritual Sun, whose centre is everywhere, whose circumference can be found nowhere; a Sun whose lustre as much surpasses the brightness of the luminary that rules the day, as the Creator surpasses the creature; and say, What are the twinkling tapers of good men on earth,—what is the smoking flax of wicked creatures,—what the glittering stars of saints in heaven? Why, they are all lost in His transcendent glory, and if any one of these would set himself up as an object of esteem, regard, or admiration, he must indeed be mad with self and pride. He must be, as dear Mr. Howell Harris has often told us, a foolish apostate, a devil.
“Understand this, believe this, and you will sink to unknown depths of self-horror, for having aspired at being somebody, self-humiliation at seeing yourself nobody, or what is worse an evil-body.
“But I would not have you dwell even upon this evil, so as to lose sight of your Sun, unless it be to see Him covered, on this account, with our flesh and blood, and wrapt in the cloud of our nature. Then you will cry out with St. Paul, ‘O the depth!’ Then, finding the manhood is again resorbed into the Godhead, you will gladly renounce all selfish, separate existence in Adam and from Adam. You will take Christ to be your life; you will become His members by eating His flesh and drinking His blood; you will consider His flesh as your flesh, His bone as your bone, His Spirit as your spirit, His righteousness as your righteousness, His cross as your cross, and His crown (whether of thorns or glory) as your crown. You will reckon yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God, through this dear Redeemer. You will renounce propriety; you will heartily and gladly say, ‘Not I, not I, but Christ liveth; and only because He lives, I do, and shall live also.’
“When it is so with us, then we are creatures in our Creator, and redeemed creatures in our Redeemer. Then we understand and feel what He says, ‘Without Me the Creator, ye are nothing; without Me the Saviour, ye can do nothing.’ ‘The moment I consider Christ and myself as two, I am gone,’ says Luther; and I say so too. I am gone into self, and into Antichrist; for that which will be something, will not let Christ be all; and that which will not let Christ be all, must certainly be Antichrist. What a poor, jejune, dry thing is doctrinal Christianity, compared with the clear and heartfelt assent that the believer gives to these fundamental truths! What life, what strength, what comfort flow out from them! O my friends, let us believe, and we shall see, taste, and handle the Word of Life. When I stand in unbelief, I am like a drop of muddy water drying up in the sun of temptation. I can neither comfort, nor help, nor preserve myself. When I do believe and close in with Christ, I am like that same drop losing itself in a boundless, bottomless sea of purity, light, life, power, and love. There my good and my evil are equally nothing; equally swallowed up; and grace reigns through righteousness unto eternal life.
“There I wish you all to be. There I beg you and I may meet with all God’s children. I long to see you that I may impart unto you (should God make use of such a worm) some spiritual gift, and that I may be comforted by the mutual faith of you and me, and by your growth in grace, and in divine as well as human wisdom, during my long absence. I hope matters will be so contrived that I may be with you, to behold your order, before the anniversary. Meanwhile, I remain your affectionate fellow-labourer and servant in the Gospel of Christ,
No wonder that the visits of a man breathing such a spirit were welcomed. Mr. Benson, the head master of the College, writes:—
“He was received as an angel of God. It is not possible for me to describe the veneration in which we all held him. Like Elijah, in the schools of the prophets, he was revered; he was loved; he was almost adored; not only by every student, but by every member of the family.
“And indeed he was worthy. The reader will pardon me, if he thinks I exceed. My heart kindles while I write. Here it was that I saw, shall I say, an angel in human flesh? I should not far exceed the truth if I said so. But here I saw a descendant of fallen Adam, so fully raised above the ruins of the fall, that, though by the body he was tied down to earth, his whole conversation was in heaven. His life, from day to day, was hid with Christ in God. Prayer, praise, love, and zeal, all ardent, elevated above what one would think attainable in this state of frailty, were the element in which he continually lived. As to others, his one employment was, to call, entreat, and urge them, to ascend with him to the glorious source of being and blessedness. He had leisure, comparatively, for nothing else. Languages, arts, sciences, grammar, rhetoric, logic, even divinity itself, were all laid aside, when he appeared in the schoolroom among the students. His full heart would not suffer him to be silent. He must speak, and they were readier to hearken to this servant and minister of Jesus Christ, than to attend to Sallust, Virgil, Cicero, or any Latin or Greek historian, poet, or philosopher they had been engaged in reading. And they seldom hearkened long, before they were all in tears, and every heart catched fire from the flame that burned in his soul.
“These seasons generally terminated in this. Being convinced that to be ‘filled with the Holy Ghost’ was a better qualification for the ministry of the Gospel than any classical learning (though that too may be useful in its place), after speaking awhile in the schoolroom, he used frequently to say, ‘As many of you as are athirst for the fulness of the Spirit, follow me into my room.’ On this, many of us instantly followed him, and there continued till noon, for two or three hours, praying for one another, till we could bear to kneel no longer. This was done, not once or twice, but many times; and I have sometimes seen him, on these occasions—once in particular—so filled with the love of God, that he cried out, ‘O my God, withhold Thy hand, or the vessel will burst!’ But he afterwards told me, he was afraid he had grieved the Spirit of God, and that he ought to have prayed that the Lord would have enlarged the vessel, or have suffered it to break, that the soul might have had no further bar to its enjoyment of the Supreme Good.
“Such was the ordinary employment of this man of God, while he remained at Trevecca. He preached the word of life to the students and family, and to as many of the neighbours as desired to be present. He was always employed, either in illustrating some important truth, or exhorting to some neglected duty, or administering some needful comfort, or relating some useful anecdote, or making some profitable remark. His devout soul, always burning with love and zeal, led him to intermingle prayer with all he uttered. His manner was so solemn and, at the same time, so mild and insinuating, that it was hardly possible for any one to be in his company without being struck with awe and charmed with love, as if in the presence of an angel or departed spirit. Indeed, I frequently thought, while attending to his heavenly discourse, that he was so different from the generality of mankind as to look more like Moses or Elijah, or some prophet or apostle come again from the dead, than a mortal man dwelling in a house of clay.”[207]
This, to some, may appear excessive eulogy; and, therefore, the reader is reminded that Joseph Benson, who wrote it, was not a weak-minded fanatic, but a man of robust understanding, a classical scholar of no mean attainments, an able commentator on the Old and New Testaments, one of the most powerful and successful preachers of his times, and twice President of the Wesleyan Methodist Conference. Such a man was not likely to write random words. He knew Fletcher, and, to the best of his power, described him accurately. And, further, it must be remembered that Benson’s testimony was endorsed by Wesley, who inserted it verbatim in his “Life of Fletcher.“
Such was Fletcher; and yet this half-angelic man had soon to leave Trevecca! The reasons for this must now be given. The subject will be far from pleasant; but, in a Life of Fletcher, it cannot be evaded. For some time past, the storm of the Calvinian controversy had been brewing; now the crisis came, and the storm burst with terrific violence.
Before proceeding, however, with the history of the controversy, there is a letter belonging to this period too interesting to be omitted. David Simpson, who had belonged to Rowland Hill’s Methodist Society, at Cambridge, had recently received episcopal ordination, and begun his famous ministry. Like Wesley, Whitefield, Berridge, Rowland Hill, and others, he was inclined to become, to some extent, an itinerant preacher, and, therefore, irregular. He was only twenty-four years of age, without experience, and in need of counsel. Accordingly, he wrote to Fletcher, who returned the following answer:—
“Reverend and Dear Sir,—I have sometimes preached in licensed places, but have never been censured for it. Perhaps it is because my superiors in the Church think me not worth their notice, and despair of shackling me with their unevangelical regularity. If the Bishop were to take me to task about this piece of irregularity, I would observe,—
“1. That the canons of men cannot overthrow the canons of God. ‘Preach the word. Be instant in season and out of season.’ ‘The time cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship,’ particularly and exclusively of all other places, neither upon mount Gerizim, nor upon mount Zion; but they shall worship everywhere in spirit and in truth. The contrary canons are Jewish, and subversive of the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free; yea, contrary to the right of Churchmen, which must, at least, include the privilege of dissenters.
“2. Before the Bishop shackled me with canons, he charged me to ‘look for Christ’s lost sheep that are dispersed abroad, and for His children who are in the midst of this wicked world;’ and these sheep, etc., I will try to gather whenever I meet them. We have a general canon:—‘While we have time, let us do good to all men, and especially to them who are of the household of faith.’ ‘Go into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature’ willing to hear it.
“A Justice of the Peace would once prosecute me upon the Conventicle Act; but, when it came to the point, he durst not do it. Some of my parishioners went and complained to the Bishop about my conventicles. I wrote to the Registrar that I hoped his Lordship, who had given me the above-mentioned charge at my ordination, would not be against my following it; that I thought it hard the tipplers should have twenty or thirty tippling-houses, the papists one meeting-house, and the dissenters three or four, in my parish, undisturbed, and that I should be disturbed, because I would not have God’s Word confined to one house; and that, with respect to the canons, it would be absurd to put them in force against preaching clergymen, when they were set aside with respect to catechising, tippling, gaming, and carding clergymen; that I did not desire his Lordship to patronize me, in an especial manner, in the use of my Christian liberty; but that I hoped he would connive at it.
“Whether they received my letter or not, I do not know; but they never attempted to molest me.
“Be modestly and steadily bold for God, and your enemies will be more afraid of you than you of them; or if God will honour you with the badge of persecution, He will comfort and bless you the more for it. May the God of all grace and power be with you more and more! Ask it, dear Sir, for your brother and servant in Christ,
Fletcher had been only a few weeks at home, when Wesley opened the Annual Conference of his Itinerant Preachers. This took place in London, on August 7, 1770. The twenty-eighth question of that Conference was, “What can be done to revive the work of God where it is decayed?” In answering this, it was resolved, 1. That there must be more visitation from house to house; 2. That the books Wesley had printed should be more widely dispersed; 3. That there should be more field-preaching; 4. That there should be preaching at five o’clock in the morning wherever twenty hearers could be obtained; 5. That evils in congregational singing should be corrected; 6. That four fast-days should be observed every year; 7. That the Methodists must be taught to seek and expect, not only gradual, but “instantaneous sanctification”; 8. That every Itinerant Preacher, “in every large town, should spend an hour with the children” of the Methodists every week; 9. That no itinerant preacher should be so appointed to preach on Sundays, as to keep him “from church above two Sundays in four.”
The last answer to the question is the only one that concerns the Life of Fletcher, and must be given verbatim. Continuing to instruct and direct his preachers, Wesley observed, lastly,—
“Take heed to your doctrine.
“We said, in 1744, ‘We have leaned too much toward Calvinism.’ Wherein?
“1. With regard to man’s faithfulness. Our Lord Himself taught us to use the expression, and we ought never to be ashamed of it. We ought steadily to assert, on His authority, that if a man is not ‘faithful in the unrighteous mammon,’ God will not give him ‘the true riches.’
“2. With regard to working for life. This also our Lord has expressly commanded us. ‘Labour,’ εργαζεσθε, literally, ‘work for the meat that endureth to everlasting life.’ And, in fact, every believer, till he comes to glory, works for as well as from life.
“3. We have received it as a maxim, that ‘a man is to do nothing in order to justification.’ Nothing can be more false. Whoever desires to find favour with God should ‘cease from evil, and learn to do well.’ Whoever repents should do ‘works meet for repentance.’ And if this is not in order to find favour, what does he do them for?
“Review the whole affair.
“1. Who of us is now accepted of God?
“He that now believes in Christ with a loving and obedient heart.
“2. But who among those who never heard of Christ?
“He that feareth God, and worketh righteousness according to the light he has.
“3. Is this the same with ‘he that is sincere’?
“Nearly, if not quite.
“4. Is not this ‘salvation by works’?
“Not by the merit of works, but by works as a condition.
“5. What have we then been disputing about for these thirty years?
“I am afraid, about words.
“6. As to merit itself, of which we have been so dreadfully afraid: we are rewarded ‘according to our works,’ yea, ‘because of our works.’ How does this differ from for the sake of our works? And how differs this from secundum merita operum? As our works deserve. Can you split this hair? I doubt I cannot.
“7. The grand objection to one of the preceding propositions is drawn from a matter of fact. God does in fact justify those who, by their own confession, neither feared God nor wrought righteousness. Is this an exception to the general rule?
“It is a doubt, God makes any exception at all. But how are we sure that the person in question never did fear God and work righteousness? His own saying so is not proof; for we know how all that are convinced of sin undervalue themselves in every respect.
“8. Does not talking of a justified or a sanctified state tend to mislead men, almost naturally leading them to trust in what was done in one moment? Whereas we are every hour and every moment pleasing or displeasing to God, ‘according to our works.’ According to the whole of our inward tempers, and our outward behaviour.”[209]
For the next five years (1770–1775), Fletcher made it his duty to explain and defend these theological theses; and a review of this quinquennial controversy—as concise as possible—must now be attempted.
Eight days after the close of Wesley’s Conference, Lady Huntingdon, with the Rev. Walter Shirley and the Rev. Henry Venn, arrived at Mr. Ireland’s residence at Brislington, on their way to Trevecca to attend the services in connection with the anniversary of the College. Wesley had been at the anniversary a year ago, and had been invited to be at the present one. Accordingly, he remained in Bristol with the expectation of accompanying her ladyship to Wales, but, horrified by the doctrinal minutes of his late Conference, she wrote to him saying that, until he renounced such doctrines, she must exclude him from all her pulpits. Wesley returned no reply to this communication, but, next day, calmly and quietly set out for Cornwall.[210]
The day after this, the Countess, accompanied by Shirley and Venn, Lady Anne Erskine, Miss Orton, Mr. Ireland, and Mr. Lloyd, started for Trevecca, where Fletcher, the President of the College, was ready to receive them. Here, also, were assembled three of the Methodist clergymen in Wales, William Williams, Peter Williams, and Daniel Rowlands; likewise Howell Harris, and several other lay preachers and exhorters. On Wednesday, August 23, at nine in the morning, Shirley administered the Lord’s Supper; at ten, Fletcher preached; at two in the afternoon, Venn addressed the students; and at four, Howell Harris addressed a large congregation in the court of the College. On Thursday morning, August 24, Venn administered the sacrament; at ten, Daniel Rowlands and William Williams preached in the court; at two, Shirley examined the students, and gave an exhortation; at four, Peter Williams discoursed in the chapel, and some of the lay preachers in the court. In the evening Berridge arrived at the College.
On Friday, August 24, the anniversary day of the opening, a public prayer-meeting was held in the chapel, at six o’clock in the morning, when Rowlands, Williams, Harris, and Berridge offered prayer; after which Fletcher, as President of the College, administered the Lord’s Supper, first to ten clergymen, then to the students, then to Lady Huntingdon and her household, and then to the congregation in general. Public service began at ten. A scaffold was erected in the court, on which sat all the clergy, dissenting ministers, lay preachers, and students. Fletcher read the liturgy of the Church of England, Peter Williams offered extemporary prayer, the vast congregation sang most lustily the glorious hymn of heretical Wesley, beginning with the line,
Shirley preached from the words, “For after that, in the wisdom of God, it pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe.” Then William Williams followed with a sermon in Welsh. At two, her ladyship’s guests all dined, the people in the chapel and in the court continuing to sing and pray. At three, Berridge discoursed from, “They went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following.” After him, Daniel Rowlands, in his own eloquent and powerful manner, addressed the multitude in Welsh, taking as his text, “We preach Christ crucified.” In the evening, Venn delivered a sort of charge to the ministers, students, and lay preachers, from the text, “Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season;” and Fletcher concluded the services of the anniversary by offering prayer.
The next morning, however, at seven o’clock, these godly and earnest people held another prayer-meeting in the chapel, in which Shirley, Venn, Berridge, and Fletcher took part. On the day following, Sunday, August 26, Venn and Berridge preached, and then this memorable assemblage dispersed, Lady Huntingdon proceeding, by way of Berwick and Worcester, to Bristol, where she met Charles Wesley, and, despite the heresy of his brother and the itinerants at the late Conference, took him to Bath to preach several times in her chapel in that city.[211]
Truly, these were glorious days; but, mournful to relate, they were soon followed by days of strife and bitterness. Wesley was accused of having renounced the doctrines of the Reformation. He was traduced as a Pelagian, a Pharisee, a Papist, an Antichrist.[212] All this was unjust and untrue. In less than four months after the memorable Conference of 1770, Wesley preached his “Sermon on the Death of Whitefield,” in which he said:—
“The fundamental point of Mr. Whitefield was, give God all the glory of whatever is good in man; and, in the business of salvation, set Christ as high, and man as low as possible. With this point, he and his friends at Oxford, the original Methodists (so-called) set out. Their grand principle was, there is no power (by nature) and no merit in man. They insisted, all power to think, speak, or act right, is in and from the Spirit of Christ; and all merit is (not in man, how high soever in grace, but merely) in the blood of Christ. So he and they taught: There is no power in man, till it is given him from above, to do one good work, to speak one good word, or to form one good desire. For it is not enough to say, all are sick of sin: no, we are all dead in trespasses and sins. It follows that all the children of men are by nature children of wrath. We are all guilty before God, liable to death temporal and eternal.
“And we are all helpless, both with regard to the power and to the guilt of sin. For who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? None less than the Almighty. Who can raise those that are dead, spiritually dead in sin? None but He who raised us from the dust of the earth. But on what consideration will He do this? Not for works of righteousness that we have done. The dead cannot praise Thee, O Lord! nor do anything for the sake of which they should be raised to life. Whatever therefore God does, He does it merely for the sake of His well-beloved Son: He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities. He Himself bore all our sin in His own body upon the tree. He was delivered for our offences, and rose again for our justification. Here then is the sole meritorious cause of every blessing we do or can enjoy: in particular of our pardon and acceptance with God, of our free and full justification. But by what means do we become interested in what Christ has done and suffered? Not by works, lest any man should boast; but by faith alone. We conclude, says the Apostle, that a man is justified by faith, without the works of the law. And to as many as thus receive Him, giveth He power to become the sons of God: even to those that believe in His name, who are born, not of the will of man, but of God.
“And except a man be thus born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. But all who are thus born of the Spirit, have the kingdom of God within them. Christ sets up His kingdom in their hearts—righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. That mind is in them, which was in Christ Jesus, enabling them to walk as Christ also walked. His indwelling Spirit makes them both holy in heart, and holy in all manner of conversation. But still, seeing all this is a free gift, through the righteousness and blood of Christ, there is eternally the same reason to remember, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.
“You are not ignorant, that these are the fundamental doctrines which he (Mr. Whitefield) everywhere insisted on. And may they not be summed up, as it were, in two words, The new birth, and justification by faith. These let us insist upon, with all boldness, at all times, and in all places. In public (those of us who are called thereto), and, at all opportunities, in private. Keep close to these good old unfashionable doctrines, how many soever contradict and blaspheme. Go on, my brethren, in the name of the Lord, and in the power of His might. With all care and diligence, keep that safe which is committed to your trust: knowing that heaven and earth shall pass away; but this truth shall not pass away.”[213]
Thus did Wesley address the crowds of Calvinists, in Whitefield’s two London chapels, on Sunday, November 18, 1770. There can be no doubt that he meant this to be an answer to the misrepresentations and calumnies launched against him, on account of the doctrinal minutes of his recent Conference. It ought to have been sufficient to silence his adversaries, but it was not. Passion is more easily excited than appeased. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, Lady Glenorchy[214] wrote:—
“Your ladyship’s account of what occurred at Mr. Wesley’s last Conference does not surprise me. I have since seen the Minutes, and must bear my feeble testimony against the sentiments contained in them. May the Lord God of Israel be with you, and enable you to make a firm stand in defence of a free-grace Gospel! Lady Anne’s letter has told me all you have been doing in this momentous affair. When you next write to dear Mr. Shirley, give my kindest regards to him, and also to Mr. Venn, Mr. Fletcher, and Mr. Romaine. From what Lady Anne says, I fear very much for Mr. Fletcher that he will be carried off by Mr. Wesley’s influence. What will be the end of this business I know not. I know Mr. Wesley is greatly displeased with me, though I have always countenanced his preachers; but now I find this cannot be done by me any longer. Nevertheless, I respect him highly, and pray that he may be led in the way of truth.”[215]
Lady Glenorchy executed her conscientious threat. Lady Huntingdon had already done the same. Further action was taken. Joseph Benson was dismissed from Trevecca College, because he adhered to the doctrines of Wesley. The good Countess, however, gave him the following certificate:—
“This is to certify that Mr. Joseph Benson was master for the languages in my College at Talgarth for nine months, and that, during that time, from his capacity, sobriety, and diligence, he acquitted himself properly in that character; and I am ready at any time to testify this on his behalf whenever required.
Benson was unexceptionable as a classical master; but, in her ladyship’s opinion, he was a heretic in theological dogmas, because he did not believe the doctrine of absolute predestination.[217] Fletcher, the president of the college, was dissatisfied with her ladyship’s dismissal of the master, and wrote to her as follows:—
“Mr. Benson made a very just defence when he said, he held with me the possibility of salvation for all men; that mercy is offered to all; and yet may be received or rejected. If this be what your ladyship calls Mr. Wesley’s opinion, free-will, and Arminianism, and if ‘every Arminian must quit the College,’ I am actually discharged also; for, in my present view of things, I must hold that sentiment, if I believe that the Bible is true, and that God is love.
“For my part, I am no party-man. In the Lord, I am your servant, and that of your every student; but I cannot give up the honour of being connected with my old friends, who, notwithstanding their failings, are entitled to my respect, gratitude, and assistance, could I occasionally give them any. Mr. Wesley shall always be welcome to my pulpit, and I shall gladly bear my testimony in his, as well as in Mr. Whitefield’s. But if your ladyship forbid your students to preach for the one, and offer them to preach for the other at every turn; and if a master is discarded for believing that Christ died for all; then prejudice reigns, charity is cruelly wounded, and party spirit shouts, prevails, and triumphs.”
On the same day, Fletcher wrote to the dismissed Benson the following:—
“Dear Sir,—The same post brought me yours, and two from my lady, and one from Mr. Williams.[218] Their letters contained no charges, but general ones, which with me go for nothing. If the procedure you mention be fact, and your letter be a fair account of the transactions and words relative to your discharge, a false step has been taken. I write by this post to her ladyship on the affair, with all possible plainness. If the plan of the college be overthrown, I have nothing more to say to it. I will keep to my tent for one; the confined tool of any one party I never was, and never will be. If the blow that should have been struck at the dead spirit, is struck at dead Arminius, or absent Mr. Wesley,—if a master is turned away without any fault, it is time for me to stand up with firmness, or to withdraw.
“Take care, my dear Sir, not to make matters worse than they are; and cast a mantle of forgiving love over the circumstances that might injure the cause of God, so far as it is put into the hands of that eminent lady, who has so well deserved of the Church of Christ. Rather suffer in silence, than make a noise to cause the Philistines to triumph. Do not let go your expectation of a baptism from above. May you be supported in this and every other trial! Farewell!
Two days later, Fletcher wrote again to Benson as follows:—
“I am determined to stand or fall with the liberty of the College. As I entered it a free place, I must quit it the moment it is a harbour for party spirit.
“As I am resolved to clear up this matter or quit my province, I beg you will help me to as many facts and words, truly done, and really spoken, as you can; whereby I may show that false reports, groundless suspicions, party spirit against Mr. Wesley, arbitrary proceedings, and unscriptural impulses, hold the reins and manage affairs in the College; as also that the balance of opinions is not maintained, and Mr. Wesley’s opinions are dreaded, and struck at, more than deadness of heart, and a wrong conduct.
“So far as we can, let us keep this matter to ourselves. When you speak of it to others, rather endeavour to palliate than aggravate what has been wrong in your opposers. Remember that great lady has been an instrument of great good, and that there are great inconsistencies attending the greatest and best of men. Possess your soul in patience. See the salvation of God; and believe, though against hope, that light will spring out of darkness.
On February 20, Fletcher set out for the College;[219] and, on his return to Madeley, he wrote to Wesley the following hitherto unpublished letter:—
“Rev. and Dear Sir,—I was sorry not to have had it in my power to meet you in Shropshire,[220] and give you, by word of mouth, an account of what passed at Lady Huntingdon’s College respecting you, at my last visit there.
“The hasty admitting of subjects that did not appear to me proper; the sanguine hopes they would turn out against probability, the divisions at Brecknock and the Hay, and some things that I did not approve in Mr. Benson’s dismission, gave me a disgust to the College. Nevertheless, I went to try to make the best of the matter; but I found at my arrival that the students had been armed by Mr. Shirley against the point I had, with some success, maintained when I was there before, namely, internal conversion by the power of the Holy Ghost dwelling in the heart by faith. He called it perfection, and as such baited it out of the place.
“I saw the College was no longer my place, as I was not likely to do or receive any good there, especially as Calvinism strongly prevailed. Under these circumstances, and humbling views of my insufficiency, I told my lady and all around me, I resigned the place of superintendent; nevertheless, I would stay awhile to supply the want of a master.
“In the meantime, an extract of your last Minutes was sent to my lady, who wept much over it, through an honest fear that you had fairly and fully given up the grand point of the Methodists, free justification, articulum stantis vel cadentis ecclesiæ. The heresy appeared horrible, worth being publicly opposed, and such as a true believer ought to be ready to burn against. I tried to soften matters, but in vain. The students were commanded to write their sentiments upon your doctrine of salvation by works, working for life, the merit of works, etc.; and whoever did not fully disavow it, was to quit the College. I wrote among the rest, and showed the absurdity of inferring from these Minutes that you had renounced the Protestant doctrine and the atonement. I defended your sentiments, by explaining them as I have heard you do, and only blamed the unguarded and not sufficiently explicit manner in which they were worded. I concluded by saying, that, as, after Lady Huntingdon’s declaration, I could no longer stay in the College, but as an intruder, I absolutely resigned my place, as I must appear to all around as great a heretic as yourself.
“This step had a better effect than I expected. My lady weighed with candour what I had advanced, though she thought it too bad to be laid before the students. In short, I retired in peace and as peacemaker, the servant and no more the principal of the College. I advised Lady Huntingdon to choose a moderate Calvinist in my place, and recommended Mr. Rowland Hill. The College will take quite a Calvinist turn, and an itinerant ministry will go out of it to feed the Church of God of that sentimental denomination. I strongly recommended them to set fire to the harvest of the Philistines, and not to that of their fellow Israelites who cannot pronounce Shibboleth in their way. My lady seemed quite disposed for peace last Friday;[221] and she will write to you to beg you will explain yourself upon the Minutes, that she and the College may see you are not an enemy to grace, and may be friends at a distance, instead of open adversaries.
“And now, my dear Sir, I beseech you to put on all the bowels of mercy and condescension that are in Christ, to hope the College and its foundress mean well; and give them all the satisfaction you can. I need not bring to your remembrance the words of the Apostle, ‘As much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.’ I trust they are graven on your heart, and that, should war ensue, your moderation will still appear to all men. The points that will most stop the mouth of our friend are the total fall of man, and his utter inability to do any good of himself; the absolute necessity of the grace and Spirit of God to raise even a good thought or desire in the heart; the Lord rewarding no work, or accepting of none, but so far as they proceed from His preventing, convincing, and converting grace; the blood and righteousness of Christ being the sole meritorious cause of our salvation, and the only spring of all acceptable works, whether we do them spontaneously from life or for more abundant life.
“I look upon Lady Huntingdon as an eminent servant of God, an honest, gracious person, but not above the reach of prejudice; and where prejudice misleads her, her warm heart makes her go rather too fast. It is in your power greatly to break, if not altogether to remove, the prejudice she has conceived against you, and to become all things to her, that you may not cause her to stumble in the greatness of her zeal for the Lord. The best way to get the Calvinists to allow us something, is to grant them all we possibly can.
“As your enemies will particularly watch your writings and sermons, and Satan your heart to find an occasion against you by self-righteousness and dependence upon your great works, my prayer is that you may fully disappoint them, by guarding the Gospel truth in your own heart and life and doctrine, as much from the legal as the antinomian extreme, between which it invariably lies.
“With respect to me, I am not yet a Christian in the full sense of the word; but I follow after, if so be I may apprehend that for which I am apprehended of Christ. Take no notice of my scrawl. Pray for, and direct, Rev. and dear Sir, your affectionate friend and unworthy servant in Christ,
Four days after the date of this letter, Fletcher wrote to Benson, giving him some of the particulars just recited; but also mentioning other facts, too interesting and important to be omitted here.
“My Dear Friend.—On my arrival at the College, I found all very quiet, I fear through the enemy keeping his goods in peace. While I preached the next day, I found myself as much shackled as ever I was in my life; and, after private prayer, I concluded I was not in my place. The same day[222] I resigned my office to my lady; and, on Wednesday, to the students and the Lord. Nevertheless, I went on as usual, only I had no heart to give little charges to the students, as before. I should possibly have got over it as a temptation, if several circumstances had not confirmed me in my design. Two I shall mention. When Mr. Shirley was at the College, what you had written upon the ‘baptism of the Holy Ghost’ was taken to pieces. Mr. Shirley maintained that the prophecy of Joel (Acts ii.) had its complete fulfilment on the day of Pentecost; and thus he turned the stream of living waters into imperceptible dews, nemine contradicente, except two, who made one or two feeble objections; so that the point was, in my judgment, turned out of the College after you, and was abused under the name of ‘Perfection.’‘Perfection.’ This showed I was not likely to receive or do any good there.
“Some days after my arrival, however, I preached the good old doctrine before my Lady and Mr. H——. The latter also talked of imperceptible influences, and the former thanked me; but, in my apprehension, spoiled all by going to the College the next day, to give a charge partly against Perfection, in my absence.
“Last Friday, I left them all in peace, the servant, but no more the president of the College. My lady behaved with great candour and condescension towards me in the affair. As for you, you are still out of her books, and are likely so to continue. Your last letters have only thrown oil on the fire. All was seen in the same light in which Mr. Wesley’s letter appeared. You were accused of having alienated my heart from the College, but I have cleared you.
“I rejoice that your desires after a larger measure of the Holy Spirit increase. Part rather with your heart’s blood than with them. Let me meet you at the throne of grace; and send me word how you dispose of yourself. If you are at a loss for a prophet’s room, remember I have one here.
To these letters must be added a verbatim copy of an important document, altogether in Fletcher’s own handwriting, and never published until now.
“An account of John Fletcher’s case, with the reasons that have induced him to resign the superintendency of the Countess of Huntingdon’s College in Wales.
“I was first connected with Mr. Wesley, under whom, for love and gratitude’s sake, I occasionally laboured some years.
“By Mr. C. Wesley I had the honour of being presented to Lady Huntingdon, who kindly admitted me to the office of a private chaplain, and granted me full leave to assist my old friends as often as I would.
“By means of her ladyship I was afterwards introduced to Mr. Whitefield, and had the honour of assisting him also both in London and Bristol, and found myself peculiarly happy in showing, by my equal readiness to throw my mite of assistance where it was accepted, that though I was the Lord’s free man I delighted to be the common servant of all. I was glad also to have from time to time an opportunity of bearing a kind of practical testimony against the spirit of party and division, which, to my great grief, crumbled the Church of Christ around me.
“After taking a dangerous turn into the doctrines of election and reprobation, my sentiments settled at last into the anti-Calvinist way, in which Mr. Wesley was rooted. Notwithstanding this, it became a steady, invariable point with me never to be so attached to his, or any one party, as to be shy of, much less break with another.
“I had soon an opportunity of being closely tried in my spirit of catholic love. Mr. Maxfield separated from his and my old friend Mr. Wesley. I thought him rather in the wrong, and Mr. Wesley was my oldest acquaintance. Notwithstanding, I ventured upon the loss of his friendship, and of my connection with him, by publicly assisting Mr. Maxfield when the breach between them was widest, and the press groaned under the unkind productions of their unhappy division.[224] Though I touched Mr. Wesley’s friendship in the tenderest part, he bore with me, and his patience increased my regard for him; nor is it at all abated now, though I have had little opportunity to show it him, having hardly exchanged one or two letters with him these many years.
“Soon after Lady Huntingdon founded her College, and partly by her unmerited esteem, partly by Providence, and partly by my desire to be a Gibeonite to God’s people and hew wood if I could not draw water, I was brought to have a principal share in the management of it. The free spirit that breathed in the noble foundress’s proposals, and the general terms of admittance, suited my catholic taste, and the liberty of sentiment granted to all that firmly maintained our total fall in Adam, attached me no less to the institution than its excellence and the prospect of its usefulness.
“Scruples nevertheless rose in my mind. The first was a fear lest improper subjects, persons destitute either of grace or gifts, perhaps of both, were admitted with the greatest readiness, and kept upon the foundation with the most sanguine hopes that a day of Pentecost would make them what they did not appear to me to be as yet—Christians and preachers. Flattering myself that it would be so, after some modest expostulations I submitted my judgment to that of the noble foundress, whose light I think in general as superior to mine as is her rank and grace.
“The Brecknock division[225] broke out. I suddenly tried to prevent it, but it took place, and secretly wounded my catholic spirit. Nevertheless, hopes that the Lord might overrule it for good soon healed the wound. This brought on a rupture between my two dear and honoured friends, the foundress of the college and Mr. Wesley. An unkind, though I hope well-meant letter, was wrote on the occasion by one, and was unkindly received, yea, looked upon as highly insulting, by the other. I saw the advantage of the enemy. I blamed, and yet I loved them both. Where I could not soften matters I remained neuter. Hence, however, arose a difficulty how I should be faithful to my lady without being unfaithful to Mr. Wesley. Meantime, the prejudice seemed to me to rise, and somewhat sowed the seeds of the Hay division. Mr. Benson’s dismission followed, and though I hope it was from the Lord, yet I could not help blaming the manner in which it was conducted.
“Lady Huntingdon said on the occasion, nobody that held Mr. Wesley’s opinions should stay in the College; every Arminian should quit the place. This wounded again my catholic spirit, and appeared to me a breach of the privilege most solemnly granted to the members of the College at the opening of it. I thought that my lady had no right to impose such a law—a law so contrary to her first proposals—till it had received a proper sanction by a majority of the votes both of masters and students, and till leave had been granted to those who could not in conscience come into it to withdraw quietly, without the odium of an expulsion. I observed that if this was the case, I looked upon myself as discharged, because I for one could no more believe that Christ did not taste death for every man, than I could believe God was not truth and love; and because all the sentiments of Mr. Wesley obnoxious to the Calvinist, except perfection, are inseparably connected with general redemption.
“With regard to perfection itself, I believe that when Mr. Wesley is altogether consistent upon that subject, he means absolutely nothing by it but the full cluster of Gospel blessings, which Lady Huntingdon so warmly presses the students to pursue; namely, Gospel faith, the immediate revelation of Christ, the baptism of the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of adoption, the kingdom that cannot be moved, the element of forgiving love, deep and uninterrupted poverty of spirit, and, in a word, a standing upon Mount Sion and enjoying its great and glorious privileges. And I am fully persuaded that, in this respect, there is more misunderstanding between my lady and Mr. Wesley about words and modes of expression than about things and essential principles. All the difference between them seems to me to consist in this: my lady is more for looking to the misery and depth of the fall; Mr. Wesley more for considering the power and effects of the recovery. My lady speaks glorious things of free grace; and Mr. Wesley inculcates the glorious use we ought to make of it. Both appear to me to maintain one and the same truth, and to guard it; my lady against the Legalists, Mr. Wesley against the Antinomians. If, therefore, they do not understand one another, and fall out by the way, I shall think it is a great pity, and shall continue to be, at least in my heart, the loving servant of both; though both will possibly think me prejudiced for not seeing just as they do.
“I was also grieved that my lady should have received for truth so absurd an imagination as that of Mr. Wesley being willing to give £100 a-year to a rigid Calvinist in bondage, who just read prayers with a Welsh accent, and that wise Benson made the foolish proposal to him, when Benson, to my certain knowledge, feared his head was at times a little affected. And I began to fear lest my lady should, upon the most improbable assertions, receive unfavourable impressions against me, as she had done against her old friend Mr. Wesley, especially as my particular regard for him was still the same.
“Be that as it will, my regard for Lady Huntingdon and the students made me send her ladyship my sentimental creed, that, if she did not disapprove of it, I might come to the College; and I came, to my thinking and feeling, as free and as happy as ever, and was quite free on the Saturday evening and the next morning till noon, when the little commission and authority I had to exhort the students was quite taken away from me. As I preached in the chapel, an uncommon weight came upon me on a sudden, and it was not without much difficulty that I struggled under it through the rest of my sermon. As soon as the service was over, I retired to my room in very great heaviness and distress. I saw in the clearest light that I was not in my place, and must no longer preside in the College. From that time, I had no heart to speak to the students on the things of God. So clear and strong was my conviction that I mentioned it directly to Mr. Howell Harris, and that very evening to my lady, and to all the students on the next Wednesday; and as I concluded our morning meeting with prayer, I was led solemnly upon my knees to resign my charge to God, and to pray for a proper person to preside in my place.
“Nevertheless my high regard for my lady, and my love for the students, prevented me from being faithful to my conviction, and I would have quenched it, if I had been able. But several things happened which gave me courage to be faithful.
“Lady Huntingdon showed me a letter to Hook, which she had read to the students; and, though I admired the honesty and impartiality that appeared in it, I afterwards thought hard of that expression, that every one who held eternal justification must quit the College. This appeared to me as severe upon consistent Calvinists, as the like expression before upon consistent Arminians, as, I believe, every Predestinarian, who will not contradict himself, must hold himself eternally justified in God’s sight.
“I had reason to fear Mr. Shirley, that great minister whom I honour much in the Lord, had said he would oppose through the world the doctrine of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, which I am bound in conscience to maintain among all professors, especially in the College. From these different views of things, I saw difficulties would perpetually arise to her ladyship, the College, and myself.
“I was also grieved that when he tried his well-meant zeal (though it was not, in my judgment, zeal according to knowledge) to explode the baptism of the Holy Ghost, and laugh it out of the College, after having dressed it in a fool’s coat and called it Perfection, most of the students had tamely allowed him that Joel’s prophecy was entirely fulfilled upon the hundred and twenty disciples on the day of Pentecost, that believers are to grow in grace by imperceptible dews, and that we can do very well without a remarkable shower of grace and Divine effusion of power, opening in us the well of living water that is to flow to everlasting life.
“As it appeared to me they had, in a good degree, given up their little expectation of this Gospel blessing, and renounced the grand point which I apprehended was to be firmly maintained and vigorously pursued in the College, I did not feel the same liberty with them in prayer, and found that, as matters were and appeared likely to continue, my convictions and desires would rather be damped than cherished among them.
“Nor, indeed, did I see, upon this new plan, any advantage this College was to have more than the academy at Abergavenny, itinerancy excepted; so that I feared many would get into the habit of preaching by rote, and of talking of the power without heartily waiting for it, which made me give up my hopes that those who have not gifts should ever be useful preachers, as a day of Pentecost and power from on high can alone supply the want of them.
“My lady, likewise, appeared to me so excessively afraid of Perfection, that she seemed to take umbrage at a harmless expression I had used in a letter hastily written to a friend, ‘The fiery baptism will burn up self,’—an expression which I had caught from Mr. Harris, who frequently uses it, though no one will accuse him of befriending Mr. Wesley’s doctrine of Perfection. Whatsoever he means by it, I mean nothing but to convey the idea of a power that enables us to say, with a tolerable degree of propriety, as St. Paul, ‘I live not, but Christ lives in me;’ and I saw that, if I was faithful to my light, misapprehensions of the like kind, and well or ill grounded fears, would perpetually arise.
“But what weighed most with me, next to what passed in my heart, the third Sunday in Lent, was the strong light in which I saw the great difficulty arising from the difference of sentiments between the students and myself. I had frequently observed that, if I tried to stir up those who appeared to be carnally secure, or spiritually asleep on their soft doctrinal pillows, they directly fancied I aimed at robbing them of one of their jewels, the doctrine of perseverance, though the Searcher of hearts knows I had not the least thought about it. By the same stratagem of the enemy, when I exhorted loiterers to leave the things that are behind, and press toward the mark for the prize of our high calling in Christ, they imagined I wanted to drive them to the brink of some horrible precipice, or into the jaws of some monster called Perfection, in which notion they were possibly confirmed not only by Mr. Shirley’s positive assertions, but by frequent hints thrown out by her ladyship herself upon the danger of that imaginary bugbear. Alas! how needless it is to give charges against sinless Perfection to young men who believe no such thing is to be attained, and who live mostly under the power of the carnal mind. What must be the consequence if grace does not interpose? What, but a settling upon the lees of nature and formality, and a singing of a soft requiem to the drowsy hearts of those who are not really alive to God? What makes me think so, is the frequent opportunities I have had to observe that a word which may too indirectly countenance sin, by the craft and power of Satan and the prevalence of natural corruption, goes farther than twenty directly and powerfully thundered against it.
“Again. The light of most Calvinists is such that they cannot believe a man knows anything of free grace who does not enter into all their sentiments. Of this, a moderate one gave me lately a particular instance, by telling me point blank, I was in a damnable heresy, and never knew anything of myself or of true grace, because I had said, sinners perish for resisting and quenching the Spirit of grace. Hence, I conclude, and not without a premise, that it would be as ridiculous in me to expect the majority of students to follow my directions, as it would be to hope that young men who have good eyes should follow a person whom they believe almost if not altogether blind.
“Things appeared to me in this light, when the uneasiness of my lady occasioned by Mr. Wesley’s Minutes showed itself. I admired her zeal for the grand truths of the Gospel. Appearances were for her, and I could not excuse Mr. Wesley’s unguarded expressions, any more than my lady’s great warmth against them; her ladyship having mentioned again and again that they were horrible and abominable, and that she must burn against them, and at last added, that, whosoever in the College did not fully and without any evasion disavow them should not stay in her College, etc. Accordingly, an order came for the students and masters to write their sentiments upon them. I thought I would not lay that burden upon others without touching it myself, and, following the light in which I could see and trace Mr. Wesley’s doctrines from a long acquaintance with his sentiments, I blamed the unguarded and not sufficiently explicit manner in which they were worded, but approving the doctrines themselves as agreeable to what appears to me the analogy of faith. All the College, I suppose, rose with one voice against them, which must make me appear strangely heterodox, if not altogether a heretic worse than Mr. Wesley. This consideration, together with my lady’s repeated declaration that every student who did not disavow them should quit the College, gave me at last courage to do absolutely what I had done in a partial manner near a fortnight before, namely, to resign the office of Principal of the College, which I saw I could no longer discharge with honour, with a good conscience, or any probability of success.
“If I know anything of my own heart, I can truly say, I have not taken this step from pique or chagrin, nor from any supposed unkindness in her ladyship or the students, whose undeserved regard and peculiar respect for me have made me feel the greatest reluctance to comply with what I esteem the order of the Lord and the explicit dictate of my own conscience, confirmed by the train of circumstances which I have mentioned.
“My high esteem for her ladyship is not at all abated. My love to the students, and regard for the College are the same. Nay, I can truly say, my regard for them goads me away, as I see nothing but a scene of confusion, distraction, and jealousy if I stay. The whole of this affair appears to me to be from the Lord, and it is my sentiment, that, as the College has naturally been filled with Calvinists, is providentially founded near a Calvinist academy in Wales, a Calvinist country, an itinerant ministry is to go forth from it to feed chiefly the Church of God of that sentimental denomination. In order to this, a moderate, lively Calvinist must superintend, under the noble foundress, and, as a token that her ladyship is not dissatisfied with my conduct, I humbly beg she would give me leave to recommend my successor to her.
“Mr. Whitefield is dead; some of his forlorn congregation have already been blessed under the ministry of the students; who is more proper to head them than he whom the religious world begins to call the young Whitefield, Mr. Rowland Hill? His remarkable sufferings for Christ’s sake, entitle him to the honour of presiding over this work; and I hope the Lord will make him willing to accept an office for which he seems to be so well fitted by his popularity and success.
“If it be objected that he is young, I reply, he is older than Mr. Whitefield was when he set out upon his great errand, and that the warmth of his heart, the ripeness of his zeal, and the amazing steadiness of his conduct for years, under the greatest difficulty both at home and abroad, together with the many seals God has already given to His ministry in various parts of the kingdom, ought greatly to turn the scale in his favour. And, indeed, what is an old Saul to a young David? And who deserves most the name and honour of a father? He, or myself? Without hesitating, I answer Mr. Rowland Hill, who has perhaps begotten more children to God in one discourse than I have in all my poor labour these fourteen years.”
This long document is endorsed “Letter to Lady Huntingdon.” It would be easy to make it the text for a long sermon; but want of space forbids the attempt to do this. Besides, intelligent readers are quite competent to form just opinions respecting it. Suffice it to say, that it is of high importance, as containing, by far, the fullest account ever published of the reasons why Fletcher took a step which led to great events he never contemplated. Had he continued to be the Superintendent of the Trevecca College, it is probable that the Calvinian controversy would not have grown to such wide dimensions. That, however, is not a proof of imprudence on Fletcher’s part; for, as every one who knows the history of that controversy is well aware, it was impossible for the great religious movement of the last century to proceed without the doctrines in Wesley’s Minutes being thoroughly examined, discussed, and settled.
Wesley preached his sermon on the death of Whitefield on November 18, 1770. Six weeks afterwards, it was respectfully attacked in the January number of the Calvinists’ periodical, the Gospel Magazine. Two months later, the same magazine made a furious assault on Walter Sellon’s “Defence of God’s Sovereignty,” stigmatizing it as “A mite of reprobate silver, cast into the Foundery, and coming out thence, bearing the impress of that pride, self-righteousness, and self-sufficiency, natural to men in their fallen unrenewed state.” “This performance,” continues the reviewer, “is extolled to the very skies by the Arminians. It is calculated for their meridian, and well establishes the haughty system of their own works and faithfulness, in opposition to the grace of the Gospel, and the faithfulness of a covenant God, in the finished salvation of sinners by Jesus Christ.”
In May, the same periodical printed Wesley’s “Minutes,” and branded them as “the very doctrines of Popery, yea, of Popery unmasked.” The number for the month of June contained an article of twelve pages, entitled, “A Comment or Paraphrase on the Extract from the Minutes of the Rev. Mr. Wesley, etc.” The temper and the unfairness of the article may be judged by the paraphrase on the first Minute, “Take heed to your doctrine.” That is, remarks the commentator,—